


The bruises that you left behind

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Blood and Violence, Exhaustion, Gen, Hallucinations, Mental Anguish, Panic Attacks, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Repressed Memories, Sleep Deprivation, Stress Baking, Team as Family, Touch-Starved, Touchy-Feely, god these tags are all over the place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 18:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20916497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: Ever since the asylum, Garfield has been hallucinating about the man his tiger mauled to death and the scientist's blood that coated his skin. And since he had almost died back at Angela Azarath's old cabin in the woods, mirrors worried him, and every time he closed his eyes he saw himself covered in someone else's death. The plain fear and horror he had felt so long ago had over time developed into something closer to panic- an endless panic that even his tiger roiled at. It was hard for him to breathe, and darkness and destruction felt like the only option-Well. It's a good thing that Dick always comes when Garfield calls him, no matter what.





	The bruises that you left behind

**Author's Note:**

> This didn't turn out how I wanted it to, but it still turned out pretty well, in my opinion. I've just finished watching Titans with my mum (second time for me, first for her) and I was able to go back over all the things I missed or didn't get to appreciate, so I just had to write this. Also, I'm feeling so VALIDATED since Gar told Kory on the train that "the tiger has control" and that "there's two of them" or something like that because I completely forgot about that AND IT FITS RIGHT INTO HOW I WRITE THEM YESSSSSSS.
> 
> Anyway, this really just stems from Gar always calling Dick when he's scared/nervous/in trouble. He did it once in season 1 and I think I've seen gifs of him doing it in season 2 as well?? Either way, I just had to write this. Dick pretends he doesn't care, but he's fallen head over heels for these kids. And Rachel is just a good friend. I spent so long looking at different kinds of pie it's crazy. Also, is Gar a vegan?? I know in the animated show he is because he can turn into cows and chickens and things like that and it makes him uncomfortable to eat them when he can actually be them but in the live-action show he can only turn into a tiger, so is he a vegan at that point or just a vegetarian???? I mean, I'm not going to completely erase the characterization of him putting tofu in everything when it doesn't belong, but I'm not sure if he eats eggs or milk at this point??? I don't know. But this rambling had a POINT and it's that I know pies have eggs so my reasoning is because at this point in the story Gar doesn't have any reason to be a vegetarian SO DON'T @ ME AND TELL ME I FUCKED UP BECAUSE I THOUGHT LONG AND HARD ABOUT IT.
> 
> ANYWAY sorry. I just hope you like it, because Titans means a lot to me and I hope all the things I write for it matter x

Rachel found him out on the balcony, gripping the handrail like his life depended on it and his face a blank canvas conveying nothing but fear. “Gar?” She said gently. She placed a hand on his arm when he didn’t react. “Gar? Are you alright?”

Quickly, Garfield reached up and wiped away the tears brimming in his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He shot her a trademark 'Garfield fake disarming smile'. “All good in the hood.”

She wasn’t convinced. She knew him better than that. “Are you sick again? The last time this happened it went really bad for all of us. Do you need to lie down, or do you want me to get you something like soup or tea or whatever? Do you want me to get the others?”

“No, uh, I think I’m fine,” Garfield replied. Though she was right- this was a very similar situation to what happened last time, and he felt just as sick, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with an evil house that wanted to kill him and a conniving demon overlord trying to use him as bait. The sickness that he felt was just plain old fashion... _panic_. “Uh, actually, I’m kind of freaking out.”

Worriedly, Rachel looked him over as she tried to find any evidence to him being worse than he made out and Garfield immediately felt guilty for making her worry. “Is that why you’re out here?” She asked carefully, trying not to step on any toes. “To get some air?”

Licking his lips, Garfield reached a hand towards the back of his neck and tugged on the short, thin hairs there. “Yeah, I guess so. I uh... just needed some space, too. It’s pretty stuffy in there. The tiger was getting feisty.”

“Alright,” Rachel said. She understood. She always understood, even without using her empath powers. “That’s fine. Whatever makes you comfortable.” She paused. “But I’m bored.”

Another pang of guilt shot through Garfield’s insides- of course, Rachel had come looking for him because she needed some entertainment, why would he be so selfish as to assume that she was concerned about him, they barely knew each other! What kind of prick would he be to deny her some company? “Oh, right, sorry. You should have started with that! I’ll be out in a minute...”

But Rachel already had her hand held out, her eyes closed and her face a perfect picture of exasperation. “I’m going to entertain myself by _baking_. I want to _bake_,” she explained. “I want to bake _you_ something in particular. I was just going to ask if you wanted anything specific.”

Surprised, Garfield blinked and he thought he must have looked comical. “Bake? For _me_?”

“Yes, for you, you dummy,” Rachel laughed, gently punching Garfield in the shoulder and he put on a pretty good show of pretending that it hurt. “Who else is going to eat my failed baking attempts? Kory? _Hank_?”

Garfield made a face. “Oh god, I can just imagine how that’s going to go.”

“Exactly, so spare me from all of that,” Rachel asked. “What can I bake for you?”

After a panicked moment of thinking, Garfield settled on the only thing that he knew that he liked from Larry making it all the time back home. “Pecan pie?”

Rachel faltered. She probably expected him to pick something simple, like a cake she could mix from the box, or cookies she could cut from the tube, but no, he went for one of the most difficult dishes to make. “Pecan pie,” Rachel said slowly. “I can probably make you something... pecan pie-ish.”

“If it’s too much trouble don’t worry about it-”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t willing to do it,” Rachel said, turning around and walking back towards the large glass sliding door. She paused before she could pass completely through it, and turned back to Garfield, who had gone back to staring absently over the city skyline. “I think you should call Dick. I know he’s out right now, but he’d be willing to come back if you asked him.”

No matter how much he tried, Garfield couldn’t bring himself to pull his eyes away from the tall glass buildings. There was a panic building strongly in his chest and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it contained. “I wouldn’t want to bother him for something unimportant. I’ll talk to him when he comes back.”

With his back turned, he didn’t see the worried yet sympathetic look Rachel sent him. “Alright, whatever you want to do. I’m not going to pressure you. Shout if you need me,” and then she was gone, calling out loudly into the room, “Dawn? Can you take me to the store? And teach me how to make pie crust?”

Alone again on the balcony, Garfield hunched his shoulders against the chill of the wind and tried to ignore the tightness in his chest, the pricking of his eyes, the thickness in his throat, the panic succeeding in shaking him to his core.

He could feel it. The slickness of blood wet against his chin and his neck and his hands, sticky and bright, so bright that he could barely take his eyes off it, the windows of the industrial buildings that surrounded him reflected back the image of his sin- he was a monster, and the tiger inside him growled in agreement. It smelled blood, and it was hungry, so hungry that it was starting to scratch and tear at his insides in an effort to break out-

Beside him on the balcony stood a man in a once-white lab coat now laden in fresh blood and ripped to shreds, face collapsed and torso broken in more ways than one, and suddenly the panic was too much, it no longer threatened to overwhelm it, it _was_ overwhelming him, and defeatedly he fished his phone out of his jacket pocket as he struggled to breathe and dialled Dick’s number.

Dick answered on the second ring. “Gar? Everything alright?”

Hearing Dick’s voice was grounding in a way, and the doctor in the bloodied lab coat disappeared from his side and Garfield was able to take a deep enough breath to think clearly for a moment. “Uh, yeah, everything’s good,” he cleared his throat. “But Dick... ah, fuck. It’s happening again.”

There was a pause. “It is?” Dick sounded concerned. “Is it bad?”

Garfield glanced behind him at the spotless windows and forced himself to look at the thick, congealing blood of another man dripping down his chin and resisted the urge to reach up to touch it. “Uh... yeah, I’d say that it’s pretty bad.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m on the balcony,” Garfield replied, reaching over to hold onto the rails again. Black spots were starting to dance across his vision- he thought it would be a good idea to hold on. “I’m alone. Rachel was here, but I think she’s trying to convince Dawn to take her shopping. She wanted to bake.” He paused. “Dick? I uh... I think I really need you.”

Through the phone, Garfield heard the roaring of the engine of the car Dick was obviously in began to speed up to dangerously fast levels. “Hold on Gar, I’m on my way. Just... try and breathe? OK? I’m not too far.”

Nodding to himself, Garfield hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket as he sank to the floor, one hand still on the cold metal rail, his frail breathing coming in fits and bursts.

Garfield heard him before he saw him- his heavy footsteps and frantic shouting breaking through the fog that had clouded over Garfield’s mind, and then the glass sliding door was being thrown open and Dick’s strong hands were on him, shaking him and holding him as if he might fly away on the wind. “Gar? Gar!”

“’m fine,” Garfield mumbled, swatting Dick’s hands away from his face. “Chill dude.”

His eyes were blurry- Garfield couldn’t really see Dick’s face, but he knew the undeniable look of concern anywhere. “You don’t _look_ fine,” Dick said, his voice laden with thick worry, and grabbed Garfield by his shoulders before he could topple over. “I spoke with Rachel on the phone. She said the tiger was acting up and that you came outside to get some air?”

Swallowing down the bile that bubbled in his throat, Garfield nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”

He allowed Dick to lift him off of the balcony floor and held on to the handrails once again, his breathing not quite perfect but much better than it was before. “What happened? Did you...” Dick tried off, trying to find the right words. “See him again?”

“Yeah,” Garfield breathed reluctantly, his voice was as fluttery as his rapidly beating heart. “And the blood. It’s... almost like it was happening all over again. I was... worried.” He placed a hand over his chest to where he could feel the deep rumble of the tiger shaking him to his core. “Even the tiger was worried.”

Tentatively, Dick reached up and ran his fingers through Garfield’s hair and deep down in his throat, Garfield let out an involuntary purr at the contact. “This hasn’t happened for a long time,” he said gently, keeping one hand on Garfield’s shoulder and the other keeping up with the constant gentle contact on his scalp. “We’ve been away from the asylum for a while, and you haven’t seen anything like that since that thing with Rachel’s dad.”

“I know,” Garfield licked his lips. He could still taste the blood. “I guess I’ve just been thinking about what happened back there and then the tiger just... made it worse, you know? Amplified my emotions. It doesn’t like thinking about the cage almost as much as I do. I think once it realized, it started to overreact, and then I started to panic.”

Dick looked him over with dark eyes, holding onto him tightly. “I get that, no need to be ashamed.” Garfield looked away. He was _absolutely_ feeling ashamed. Dick knew him well. “Everyone has panic attacks every now and again, and you’ve got more reason to have one than most. You’re fine. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Nodding, Garfield focused on his breathing. He didn’t agree with him but he wasn’t in the mood for an argument. “Sorry about this,” he said instead, rubbing away the sweat from the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean for you to rush back. I thought I could handle it on my own but Rachel thought that I should call you and I just...”

“Hey, you stop that right there,” Dick said, gentle yet firm. Garfield couldn’t meet his gaze. “Gar, come on man. You know that no matter what, if you need me, I’ll stop what I’m doing to be there for you. I don’t care if you’re having nightmares or panic attacks or relationship problems. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you called and told me you needed me, so I’m here. You could have just said that only for me to come all the way here and find that you burnt your toast and needed me to buy more bread, and even then, I would have done it. You don’t need to feel ashamed or guilty for needing help and support every now and then. We all need help. But that’s why we’ve got each other. So don’t apologise for being human.”

Suddenly Garfield was so tired, a kind of exhaustion that gnawed at his bones, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt the angry tiger inside him pause his rampage and go dormant, as if it too was starting to fall asleep. “Yeah,” he said, at a loss for words. “OK. If you say so.”

“Yeah, I do say so,” Dick said as he reached his other arm up and wrapped it around Garfield’s shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace. He was warm in comparison to the chilly wind that had been blowing for the couple of hours that he had been up there all alone, and Garfield felt himself subconsciously snuggle close into the embrace. Surprisingly, to Garfield at least, Dick didn’t push him away. “You don’t have to the so happy-go-lucky all the time. You’re allowed to have pain and to suffer. I would rather that you didn’t but there’s not much I can do to stop it. But you’re allowed to feel things. You’re allowed to not be ok all the time. You’re allowed to hurt. We understand. And we love you even when you’re not feeling up to cracking jokes and making people laugh. You’re still the same Gar. You don’t have to feel guilty for existing.”

Garfield didn’t know what to say to that, so instead he glanced down at his hands and watched in awe as the stark and sticky blood finally began to fall away from his fingers and no longer coat his skin. Dick obviously couldn’t see what Garfield did, but he followed his gaze anyway and waited patiently. “The blood’s gone,” Garfield said eventually, and Dick laughed, sounding relieved.

“Good,” he said lightly, nodding to himself. “That’s good. That means that now we can go inside and eat that pie that Rachel is baking for you.”

In light of everything that had happened in the past few hours, Garfield had completely forgotten about Rachel’s promise of pie, and he immediately brightened. “Oh my god, we’re _starving_. I’ll eat it even if it is more of a nut pizza than a pecan pie.”

He rushed through the sliding door, the pain and panic from just moments ago forgotten for the near future, Dick laughing behind him, and they were both so excited at the prospect of pie and lost in their own worries that neither of them realized that Garfield had referred to him and the tiger as ‘_we’_ for the very first time in his life.

Deep down within Garfield’s chest and pushed away by his subconscious, the tiger growled in approval.


End file.
